After a balmy day when the clouds hovered over the distant reaches of the mountains, they have begun moving nearer and now, in concert with the moonlight, have marbled the sky with gray and silver. As pleased as I am to see them, and as nice as it looks, I hope it doesn't rain. This is no time for rain. The cherries are almost ripe. If they get wet, they will split open. The cherries are the one compensation for the overheated spring we have endured. They, at least, have enjoyed the sunny days and, though fewer in number than they have been in most years, they are likely to be quite flavorful. A late spring rain would be refreshing, but I'd rather have the cherries survive.